


My Father killed your Parents, Sorry

by ILoveAllThingsFanFiction



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:37:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveAllThingsFanFiction/pseuds/ILoveAllThingsFanFiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hi, my name is Ella. Ella Riddle. Yeah, I know what you're thinking, OMG her dad is Voldemort she must be a horrible person! But I'm not and I hate my father for what he did. </p><p>Ella Riddle is the same age as Mr. Harry Potter and she makes friends with him on the train disguised, because you know, she's a metamophagi, and she can do that. When Harry and Ron gain her trust she shows them her true form and Ron recognizes her. I bet you didn't see that one coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Train and He Knows Who I Am.

**Author's Note:**

> This will also have Taylor and Lexi from, If Only, in it but slightly different.

I stepped out onto Platform 9 and 3/4 looking around. The scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven O'clock. I turned and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. 　　

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. 　　

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. I pushed my cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. I passed a round-faced boy who was saying, "Gran, I've lost my toad again." 　　

"Oh, Neville," he heard the old woman sigh. 　　

A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd. 　　

"Give us a look, Lee, go on." 　　

The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

I couldn't help smiling, this is where I belonged. 　　

I pressed on through the crowd until I found an empty compartment near the end of the train. I put my trunk up on top. I sat down and changed my hair to bleach blonde and light curls. I changed my eyes startling green and then added freckles, nobody would recognize me. I looked out and saw a dark haired boy and two twin girls with brown hair, one with straight hair the other wavy.

I was about to offer my help when one of the red-haired twins I'd seen come on to the platform before me said - "Want a hand, you three?" 　　

"Yes, please," the boy panted. 　　

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!" 　　

With the twins' help, the trunks was at last tucked away together in the compartment thing over-head. 　　

"Thanks," said the boy, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. 　　

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at his forehead. 　　

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you?" 　　

"He is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added.

"What?" said Harry.

"Harry Potter,"chorused the twins.

"Oh, him," said the boy. "I mean, yes, I am." I gulped in a breath, my father killed his parents.

The two boys gawked at him, and he turned red. Then a voice came floating in through the train's open door. "Fred? George? Are you there?" 　

"Coming, Mom." With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train. He opened the compartment door and noticed me, "Can I sit with you?" He asked, he must not recognize me, I thought.

I nodded and Harry sat down next to the window, the girls following him sitting next to him the one with straight hair sitting next to me. Half hidden, I could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief. "Ron, you've got something on your nose." The youngest boy tried to jerk out of the way, but she grabbed him and began rubbing the end of his nose.

"Mom -- geroff" He wriggled free.

"Aaah, has ickle Ronnie got somefink on his nosie?" said one of the twins.

"Shut up," said Ron. 　　

"Where's Percy?" said their mother. 　　

"He's coming now." 　　

The oldest boy came striding into my sight. He had already changed into his billowing black Hogwarts robes, and I noticed a shiny silver badge on his chest with the letter P on it.

"Can't stay long, Mother," he said. "I'm up front, the prefects have got two compartments to themselves --" 　　

"Oh, are you a prefect, Percy?" said one of the twins, with an air of great surprise. "You should have said something, we had no idea." 　　

"Hang on, I think I remember him saying something about it," said the other twin. "Once --" 　 "Or twice --" 　　

"A minute --" 　

"All summer --" 　

"Oh, shut up," said Percy the Prefect. 　　

"How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said one of the twins. 　　

"Because he's a prefect," said their mother fondly. "All right, dear, well, have a good term -- send me an owl when you get there." 　　

She kissed Percy on the cheek and he left. Then she turned to the twins. 　　

"Now, you two -- this year, you behave yourselves. If I get one more owl telling me you've -- you've blown up a toilet or --" 　　

"Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet." 　　

"Great idea though, thanks, Mom." 　　

"It's not funny. And look after Ron." 　　

"Don't worry, ickle Ronniekins is safe with us." 　　

"Shut up," said Ron again. He was almost as tall as the twins already and his nose was still pink where his mother had rubbed it. 　　

"Hey, Mom, guess what? Guess who we just met on the train?" 　　

Harry leaned back quickly so they couldn't see him looking. 　　

"You know that black-haired boy who was near us in the station? Know who he is?" 　

"Who?" 　　

"Harry Potter!" 　　

I heard the little girl's voice.

"Oh, Mom, can I go on the train and see him, Mom, eh please...."

"You've already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn't something you goggle at in a zoo. Is he really, Fred? How do you know?"

"Asked him. Saw his scar. It's really there - like lightning."

"Poor dear - no wonder he was alone, I wondered. He was ever so polite when he asked how to get onto the platform."

"Never mind that, do you think he remembers what You-Know-Who looks like?"

Their mother suddenly became very stern.

"I forbid you to ask him, Fred. No, don't you dare. As though he needs reminding of that on his first day at school."

"All right, keep your hair on."

A whistle sounded. I smiled, must be nice to come from a nice family like that...

"Hurry up!" their mother said, and the three boys clambered onto the train. They leaned out of the window for her to kiss them good-bye, and their younger sister began to cry.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"George!"

"Only joking, Mom."

The train began to move. I saw the boys' mother waving and their sister, half laughing, half crying, running to keep up with the train until it gathered too much speed, then she fell back and waved.

I watched the girl and her mother disappear as the train rounded the corner. Houses flashed past the window. I felt a great leap of excitement. I didn't know what I was going to but it had to be better than what I was leaving behind.

The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest red-headed boy came in.

"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat next to the girl with the wavy hair. "Everywhere else is full."

Harry and I shook our heads and the boy sat down. He glanced at Harry and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked. He saw me and I smiled weakly, there was still a black mark on his nose.

"Hey, Ron."

The twins were back.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train -- Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Ron.

"Harry," said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. Your names?" He gestured to the twin girls and I.

"I'm Taylor and this is my sister, Lexi," the girl with the straight hair said.

"I'm Ella," I smiled.

"Cool, well see you then," 

"Bye," said Harry and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out.

Harry nodded.

"Oh -well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said Ron. "And have you really got -- you know..."

He pointed at Harry's forehead.

Harry pulled back his bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared. I felt kinda guilty. 

"So that's where You-Know-Who.."

"Yes," said Harry, "but I can't remember it."

"Nothing?" said Ron eagerly.

"Well -- I remember a lot of green light, but nothing else."

"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Harry for a few moments, then, as though he had suddenly realized what he was doing, he looked quickly out of the window again.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him.

"Er -- Yes, I think so," said Ron. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"So you must know loads of magic already."

The Weasleys were clearly one of those old wizarding families the pale boy in Diagon Alley had talked about.

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"

"Horrible -well, not all of them. My aunt and uncle and cousin are, though."

"Yeah, my mom dad and brother are gits," said the girl with the wavy hair and I laughed lightly and they looked at me.

"Wish, I had a decent wizarding family," I said.

"Wish I'd had three wizard brothers." Said Harry.

"Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left -- Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Ron reached inside his jacket and pulled out a fat gray rat, which was asleep.

"His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly ever wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made a prefect, but they couldn't aff -- I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears went pink. He seemed to think he'd said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window.

I didn't think there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl. After all, I'd never had any money in my life until a while ago, and I told Ron so, all about having to wear old clothes and never birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Ron up.

"Why, though Ella?" He asked.

"It's hard to explain, so I guess I'll just show you," I closed my eyes and went back to my original form, my hair black as night and my eyes a ugly hazel. No freckles.

Ron gasped and the other three just looked at me confused, probably how I did that, and who I was.  

"Y-Your You-Know-Who's daughter!" Ron exclaimed. I nodded and looked down as Ron moved away from me.

"Ron, she's not a bad person, we've been on this train for how long? Has she tried to kill Harry like her father, no. Let it go," Taylor said sternly putting an arm around me. 

I smiled at her and looked at Ron. "I'm not like my father, and I hate him for what he did, to you Harry, to innocent wizards and witches and muggles alike, don't judge me on my father, please," I added managing a weak smile.

The subject after that turned to my powers to make myself look completely different by will. After they marveled in it for a while it changed again to Hogwarts and classes. 

"I've got loads to learn.... I bet," Harry added, "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"No that'll be me, I may know basic stuff, but when it comes to learning actual magic, I know nothing," I said glumly.

"Neither of you will be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough." Ron said.

While we'd had been talking, the train had carried us out of London. Now we were speeding past fields full of cows and sheep. We were quiet for a time, watching the fields and lanes fly past.

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Harry, leapt to his feet, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. Harry went out into the corridor.

Ron stared as Harry brought it all back in to the compartment and tipped it onto an empty spot on the benches.

"Hungry, are you?" I said smiling

"Starving," said Harry, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty.

Ron had taken out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Swap you for one of these," said Harry, holding up a pasty. "Go on --"

"You don't want this, it's all dry," said Ron. "She hasn't got much time," he added quickly, "you know, with five of us."

"Go on, have a pasty," said Harry.

"What are these?" Harry asked, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?"

"No," said Ron. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?" Everyone but Ron said together.

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know -- Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect -- famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man's face. He wore half- moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

"So this is Dumbledore!" said Harry.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? I might get Agrippa -- thanks,"

Harry turned over his card and read:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE　　

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

Harry turned the card back over and saw, to his astonishment, that Dumbledore's face had disappeared.

"He's gone!"

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," said Ron. "He'll be back. No, I've got Morgana again and I've got about six of her... do you want it? You can start collecting."

Ron's eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped.

"Help yourself," said Harry. "But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos."

"Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron sounded amazed, "weird!"

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned Harry. "When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor -- you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger- flavored one once." I laughed and so did everyone else.

Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner.

"Bleaaargh -- see? Sprouts."

We had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Harry got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one nobody would touch, it turned out to be pepper. I wouldn't dare try one, I kept eating pasties and chocolate frogs.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy I had saw on platform nine and three quarters came in. He looked tearful.

"Sorry," he said, "but have you seen a toad at all?"

When we shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," said Harry.

"Yes," said the boy miserably. "Well, if you see him..."

He left.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand. It was chipped in places and something white was glinting at the end.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway,"

He had just raised his wand when the compartment door slid open again. The toadless boy was back, but this time he had a girl with him. She was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one," she said. 

"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron, but the girl wasn't listening, she was looking at the wand in his hand.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er -- all right."

He cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep. Shame.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard -- I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough -- I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

She said all this very fast.

Harry looked at Ron, and was relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn't learned all the course books by heart either.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Lexi Dursley, and this is my sister Taylor,"

"Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about you, of course -- I got a few extra books. for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.

"Am I?" said Harry, looking dazed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. She turned on me. "You still haven't told me your name," 

"I'm Ella Riddle,"

"Riddle as in, You-Know-Who?" She asked me. I nodded, she didn't seem quite so astonished. Well not like Ron.

"Do any of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad.... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

And she left, taking the toadless boy with her.

"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron. He threw his wand back into his trunk. "Stupid spell -- George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."

"What house are your brothers in?" asked Harry.

"Gryffindor," said Ron. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"That's the house Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?" "You mean my father?" I said.

"Yeah," said Ron. He flopped back into his seat, looking depressed.

"You know, I think the ends of Scabbers' whiskers are a bit lighter," said Harry, trying to take Ron's mind off houses.

"So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?" I asked Ron.

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," said Ron. "Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles -- someone tried to rob a high security vault." 

Harry stared.

"Really? What happened to them?" I said surprised.

"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."

"What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked.

"Er -- I don't know any," Harry confessed.

"What!" Ron looked dumbfounded. "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world --" And he was off, explaining all about the four balls and the positions of the seven players, describing famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money. He was just taking Harry through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open yet again, but it wasn't Neville the toadless boy, or Hermione Granger this time. As they did I went back to how I did before I showed them who I really was.

Three boys entered then, and Harry seemed to recognize the middle one at once: it was the pale boy from Madam Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Harry with a lot of interest.

"Is it true?" he said. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," said Harry. He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean. Standing on either side of the pale boy, they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford. Don't know you three, though," he said pointing to Lexi, Taylor and I.

"Don't know why you care," said Lexi.

"Ella," I said. He looked like he recongnized the name and I held my breath. 

He turned back to Harry. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," he said coolly.

Draco Malfoy didn't go red, but a pink tinge appeared in his pale cheeks. I relaxed and I resumed my usual form.

"I know you," he said to me, "Ella Riddle? We played together as children, remember?" 

"I am, but no, I don't remember horrible people, especially from that horrible time in my life," I said with a smile. 

"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter, and you Riddle," he said slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents Potter. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you.

Harry, Ron and Lexi stood up.

"Say that again," Ron said, his face as red as his hair.

"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" Malfoy sneered.

"Unless you get out now," said Harry, more bravely,Crabbe and Goyle were a lot bigger than him or Ron.

"But we don't feet like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some."　

Goyle reached toward the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron - Ron leapt forward, but before he'd so much as touched Goyle, Goyle let out a horrible yell.　　

Scabbers the rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk deep into Goyle's knuckle - Crabbe and Malfoy backed away as Goyle swung Scabbers round and round, howling, and when Scabbets finally flew off and hit the window, all three of them disappeared at once. Perhaps they thought there were more rats lurking among the sweets, or perhaps they'd heard footsteps, because a second later, Hermione Granger had come in.　

"What has been going on?" she said, looking at the sweets all over the floor and Ron picking up Scabbers by his tail.

I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry. He looked closer at Scabbers. "No -- I don't believe it -- he's gone back to sleep-"　

And so he had. I giggled and so did Taylor.　　

"You've met Malfoy before?"　　

Harry explained about their meeting in Diagon Alley.　　

"I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." He turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"　

"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"　

"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," said Ron, scowling at her. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"　

"All right -- I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Hermione in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"　　

Ron glared at her as she left. Harry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem to be slowing down.　　

Taylor, Lexi and I shooed Harry and Ron out while we changed into our Hgwarts robes and then let them back in to change while we waited in the corridor.　　

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."　

My stomach lurched with nerves and Ron, I saw, looked pale under his freckles. We crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor.　　

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. I shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and I heard a gruffy voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"　　

Hagrid's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.　

"C'mon, follow me -- any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"　　

Slipping and stumbling, we followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of us that I thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.　　

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."　　

There was a loud "Oooooh!"　

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black take. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.　　

"No more'n seven to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Ron, Taylor, Lexi and I were followed into the boat by Neville and Hermione. "Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then -- FORWARD!"　

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as we sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.　

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; we all bent our heads and the little boats carried us through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. We were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until we reached a kind of underground harbor, where we clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.　　

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" said Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.　　

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then we clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.　　

We walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, Oak front door.　　

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"　　

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.


	2. Sorting Ceremony and Weird Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella arrives at Hogwarts and gets sorted, somewhere she, along with everyone else, were surprised to be sorted. Then she has an amazing feast, full of food so delicious she wont be forgetting soon, then she has a strange dream.

He door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there. She had a very stern face and my first thought was that this was not someone to mess with.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit a whole house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

We followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. I could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right - the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed us first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. We crowded in, standing rather closer together than I was usually comfortable with, when I looked around everyone was peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on Ron's smudged nose. Harry tried to flatten his hair with a nervous look on his face.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" I asked Ron.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

I looked around curiously and saw that everyone else looked terrified. No one was talking much except Hermione Granger, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need. Any second now, Professor McGonagall would come back and lead us to our doom.

Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air - several people behind him screamed.

"What the-?"

Harry gasped. So did the people around me. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance-"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost - I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Harry got into line behind Taylor, me behind her, Lexi behind me and behind her was a boy with sandy hair, then Ron behind him, and we walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

The Great Hall was amazing. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver. Harry looked upward and I followed his gaze and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. I heard Hermione whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

It was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open on to the heavens.

Harry and I looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. My mom wouldn't have let it in the house.

Noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, I stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth - and the hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered to Harry, Taylor, Lexi, and I. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to wrestle a troll but the hat still seemed to be asking rather a lot.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause-

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; I could see Ron's twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was my imagination, after all he'd heard about Slytherin, but they looked like an unpleasant lot.

"Dursley, Alexis!" She blinked walked up to the stool. McGonagall placed the hat on her head and I turned saw Taylor's anxious face staring at her.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted, and she smiled took the hat off, handed it to McGonagall and rushed over to a seat at the Gryffindor table. Ron's brothers smiled and Percy patted her on the back.

I turned back to the front when McGonagall called the next name, "Dursley, Taylor."

She calmly walked up to the stool and sat down, the hall went silent again and watched as the hat was sat atop her small head, her eyes disappearing under the rim of it. She sat there for barley ten seconds before the hat called out, "GRYFFINDOR."

She smiled after taking off the hat, and the Gryffindor table clapped politely as she walked over. She whispered something as she sat beside Lexi.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" McGonagall called after Taylor had taken her seat.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, I noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide, like when it was on Lexi's head. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Lexi in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Draco swaggered forward when his name was called and the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Draco went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now. "Moon"..., "Nott"..., "Parkinson"..., then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil"..., then "Perks, Sally-Anne"..., and then-

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

Harry nervously walked over to the stool and sat down, when the hat slipped over his head his eyes disappeared under it.

We waited. And we waited. When finally.

"GRYFFINDOR!" The hat shouted. Immediately Gryffindor erupted into cheers, some of the shorter people even stood up on the benches.

Percy the Prefect got up and shook his hand vigorously, while the Weasley twins yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down beside Lexi, opposite of the ghost in the ruff we'd seen earlier. The ghost patted his arm.

And now there were only three people not including me and Ron left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean," a Black boy even taller than Ron, joined Taylor, Harry, and Lexi at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then- 

"Riddle, Ella," was called and whispers erupted from the Slytherin Table and a few others scattered across the hall. 

I walked over to the stool and sat down and the hat was placed on my head by McGonagall.

"Hmm, never thought I would have another Riddle in the school, hmm, Slytherin is where your father went, lots of courage, lots of bravery I see as well..."

"Not Slytherin, please not Slytherin," I muttered. 

"Not Slytherin? But you would achieve great things, my dear," 

"Not Slytherin," I repeated.

"Are you sure? Alright, then it ought to be GRYFFINDOR!" 

The hall was silent. No one spoke. 

Shyly, I walked over to Taylor, Lexi and Harry and sat down beside Taylor as the attention went from me to McGonagall when she called Ron's name. 

He was pale green by now. Not a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

We all clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed into the chair next to Harry.

"Well done, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Harry and I looked down at our empty gold plates. I frowned, I wanted food. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.

"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry had an odd face, and Lexi and I were out right laughing.

"Is he - a bit mad?" he asked Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" said Percy airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Taylor?"

Harry's and I's mouths fell open, allong with other first years down the table. The dishes in front of us were now piled with food. I had never seen so many things that I liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, baked potatoes, rhubarb potatoes, mashed potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some weird reason, peppermint humbugs.

Harry piled his plate, I piled my plate, and Taylor piled her plate, Lexi following suit. I had never tasted something so divine in my whole short life. 

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching Taylor cut into her steak.

"Can't you-?" Harry asked but was cut off.

"I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you - you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy- " the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So - new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable - he's the Slytherin ghost."

Harry, Taylor, Lexi, and I looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was right next to Malfoy who, I was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus with great interest.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving them sparkling clean as before. A moment later the desserts appeared. Blocks of ice cream in every flavor you could think of, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, Jell-O, rice pudding...

As I helped myself to a few treacle tarts, the talk turned to their families.

"I'm half-and-half," said Seamus. "Me dad's a Muggle. Mum didn't tell him she was a witch 'til after they were married. Bit of a nasty shock for him."

The others laughed.

"What about you, Neville?" said Ron.

"Well, my gran brought me up and she's a witch," said Neville, "but the family thought I was all-Muggle for ages. My Great Uncle Algie kept trying to catch me off my guard and force some magic out of me - he pushed me off the end of Blackpool pier once, I nearly drowned - but nothing happened until I was eight. Great Uncle Algie came round for dinner, and he was hanging me out of an upstairs window by the ankles when my Great Auntie Enid offered him a meringue and he accidentally let go. But I bounced - all the way down the garden and into the road. They were all really pleased, Gran was crying, she was so happy. And you should have seen their faces when I got in here - they thought I might not be magic enough to come, you see. Great Uncle Algie was so pleased he bought me my toad."

On Harry's other side, Percy Weasley and Hermione were talking about lessons ("I do hope they start right away, there's so much to learn, I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult - "; "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing - ")

"What about you girls?" Seamus asked Taylor.

"Were muggleborn, didn't know we were witches until Hagrid came and broke open our door. He came to make sure Harry had gotten his letter, but he was really mad when he found out none of us had gotten our letters - well, we did, but our dad took them away from us and burnt them. He's not the nicest man in the world," Taylor replied scooping up some pudding, "We're Harry's cousins, by the way."

Seamus gasped and all the guys tried to get closer to us, "Harry's cousins? I didn't know he had any magical family left."

"And Ella?" I blushed when Seamus asked as he moved closer to Taylor, making her blush more than me, I didn't talk about my family. 

"I wasn't raised by my dad or any of his relatives, if that's what you are wondering," I said sternly. 

Taylor smiled politely and leaned back inconspicuously so that they wouldn't notice. I turned back to Harry's conversation and left Taylor to the mercy of the boys.

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" Harry had asked Percy.

"Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to - everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

So that was Severus Snape? He looked a little... dungeon-ey. With his sallow skin, hooked nose, and creepy greasy black hair.

At last, the desserts too, sadly disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem - just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did, all I did was blink up at Dumbledore.

"He's not serious?" Harry muttered to Percy.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere - the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. The other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot, just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot."

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. The people in the portraits along the corridors whispered and pointed as we passed, someone even waved to me, twice Percy led us through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. We climbed more staircases, yawning and dragging our feet, and I was just wondering how much farther we had to walk when we came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them they started throwing themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves - show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at us. We all ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. We heard him zooming away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as we set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. We all scrambled through it - Neville needed a leg up - and found ourselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed us girls through one door to our dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase - we were obviously in one of the towers - we found our beds at last: six four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Our trunks had already been brought up. Too tired to talk much, we pulled on our pajamas and fell into bed

"This is crazy," Taylor muttered to Lexi and I from her bed between ours.

"Yeah, but it's an adventure," Lexi murmured back to her, voice half muffled by the pillow that she had buried my face in when she had collapsed into bed.

"It feels like a dream, like I'll fall asleep and wake up in our room back at the house," she whispered.

"It won't happen," I sighed sleepily, "We're gonna stay here... and learn to be... so awesome."

Before I could hear a reply from either of them I had fallen asleep.

Maybe I had eaten to much pudding, but I had the strangest dream.

Taylor, Lexi, Hermione, Neville, Ron, the red-haired girl I'd heard on the platform, a blonde girl I didn't recognize and I were standing in a big room with a very high ceiling and lots of glass windows that had shattered and fell to the floor. There was a large golden statue and fountain in the middle of the large room .It must be a four or five years later because we all looked older. Our hair was all different some longer some shorter, and the girls chests were fuller. The boys looked older and different too, but it was one of those things you can't describe.

But I was looking down upon the scene, I could see myself.

"You have ot won yet, Harry Potter," said a voice I vaguely recognized as my fathers.

I turned and saw Harry lying on the ground, unconscious. 

"You may have turned my own daughter, my pride and joy, against me, but you can never defeat, Lord Voldemort!" He shouted, from what seemed like everywhere around us.

This seemed to agitate my future self because I yelled back: "I will never side with you! I am where I belong, in Gryffindor, with my friends and my," the words didn't seem to reach me in my dream but I continued as if it never happened, "and you can't change that! EVER!" I shouted the last words louder, as if I was trying to prove to him that I was right.

"Maybe for now, my daughter, but in the end, it will be me, you come running to."

"I will never! I have been treated like scum when people realize who I really am! Because of you!" I shouted and spat on the ground. I must be pretty mad, I thought, I was wanting to spit at him, which is a true sign of disrespect, in case you didn't know.

The scene dissolved in front of me as I opened my eyes to the top of my four poster bed. I blinked to tired to think about the dream I had just had as it slipped away from me but in the end I gave up and rolled over and fell asleep again, and when I woke next day, I didn't think about the dream at all.


	3. Double Potions and Hagrid Has a Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ella goes to her first day of school at Hogwarts.

"There, look."

"Where?"

"Next to the kid with the red hair, the girls with the brown hair and the blonde."

"Wearing the glasses?"

"Did you see his _face_?"

"Did you see his _scar?_ "

Whispers followed Harry from the moment he left his dormitory the next day. People lining up outside classrooms stood on tiptoe to get a look at him, or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring. I was kinda mad at the kids, they acted like he was a museum or something. And he should be concentrating on his classes, not dodging idiots trying to stare at him. Like, honestly, what's the point of it? It's not like he is going to disappear in two days. He's going to be here the _entire_ year.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, I was pretty sure the coats of armor could walk. I grew up in the magical world and it was plenty confusing for me but i couldn't imagine how Taaylor and Lexi felt. They grew up with staircase that stayed, doors that would always stay doors and coats of armour that didn't move. 

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided suddenly through a door you were trying to open. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves the Poltergeist was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that was even _possible_ , was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Harry, Ron, Taylor and Lexi had managed to get on the wrong side of him on our very first morning. Filch found them trying to force their way through a door that unluckily turned out to be the entrance to the out-of-bounds corridor on the third floor. He wouldn't believe they were lost, was sure they were trying to break into it on purpose, and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamp like eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one pinky toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps the Weasley twins) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. Even Taylor wanted to, and she would _never_ harm an animal.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as some quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words.

We had to study the night skies through our telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week we went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for. Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep in front of the staff room fire and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while we scribbled down names and dates, and got Emetic the Evil and Uric the Oddball mixed up.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Lexi had been quite right to think she wasn't a teacher to mess with. Strict and clever, she gave us a talking-to the moment we sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. We were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized we weren't going to be changing the furniture into animals for a _long_  time. After taking a lot of complicated notes, we were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Hermione Granger and, surprisingly me, had made any difference to their match; Professor McGonagall showed the class how ours had gone all silver and pointy and gave Hermione and I a rare smile.

The class everyone had really been looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but we weren't sure we believed this story. For one thing, when Seamus Finnigan asked eagerly to hear how Quirrell had fought off the zombie, Quirrell went pink and started talking about the weather; for another, everyone had noticed that a funny smell hung around the turban, and the Weasley twins insisted that it was stuffed full of garlic as well, so that Quirrell was protected wherever he went.

Harry, Lexi, and I were very relieved to find out that we weren't miles behind everyone else. Lots of people had come from Muggle families and, like us, hadn't had any idea that they were witches and wizards. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start.

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. Lexi, Taylor and I had already figured that out. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron and Taylor as he poured sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron answered. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. Everyone says he always favors them - we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Probably 'cause he was in good with Dad..." I said, taking a spoonful of my oatmeal. 

"He was?"

"Yeah, I vaguely remember my father taking me from my crib one morning and giving me to him and then going to his house." I shuddered. "It's one of my most disturbing memories."

"Maybe we'll find out if he actually gave a Slytherin house points because they 'shared' with Gryffindor," snickered Lexi, who was eating a piece of toast.

"Wish McGonagall favored us," said Harry a second later. Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving us a huge pile of homework the day before.

Just then, the mail arrived. Harry had gotten used to this by now, but it had given him a bit of a shock on the first morning, when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages onto their laps.

Hedwig and Blaze, Harry's and Lexi's owls, hadn't brought Harry or Lexi anything so far. They sometimes flew in to nibble their owners ear and have a bit of toast before going off to sleep in the owlery with the other school owls. This morning, however, Hedwig and Blaze fluttered down onto the table and dropped a note onto their respective owners plate. Harry tore his open at once. But Lexi just handed the letter to me and scratched Blaze's stomach. When I tore it open It said, in a very untidy scrawl:

_Dear Alexis and Taylor_

_I know you get Friday afternoons off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? Harry will be joining.  
_

_I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Blaze or Hedwig._

_Hagrid_

Taylor took one of her school quills out of he bag and replied for Lexi and herself;  _Yes, please, see you later_  on the back of the note, and sent Blaze off again. Harry borrowed Ron's quill and scribbled the same thing before Hedwig soared after Blaze.

At the start-of-term banquet, Harry told me he had gotten the impression that Professor Snape disliked him. By the end of the first Potions lesson, he said he'd been wrong, I agreed. Snape didn't dislike Harry - he hated him.

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the main castle, and would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name, but strangely enough, he paused at Lexi's and my name. I don't think anyone besides me noticed, though.

"Ah, Yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new - celebrity."

Draco and his friends Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. His eyes were black like Hagrid's, but they had none of Hagrid's warmth. They were cold and empty and made you think of dark tunnels. Just the same as I remember. 

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but we caught every word - like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even put a stopper to death - if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

 _Just_ the same as I remember.

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged a look with raised eyebrows. Hermione Granger was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead. Lexi was listening, but also playing with a quill. I inwardly scoffed,  _yeah Lexi, just ignore the meanest teacher the school has_.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry glanced at Ron, then at me, both of us were as stumped as he was; Hermione's hand had shot into the air, Lexi's followed slower after that.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut - fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione and Lexi's hands.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat. Lexi took her hand down, clearly knowing he wasn't ging to pick her and instead turned her head and glared at Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle who were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

A few people laughed; Seamus winked at Harry. Snape, however, was not pleased.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter."

Lexi rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair, having written down all he had said while he was talking like Taylor and I did.

* * *

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put us all into pairs and set us to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching us weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Draco, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Draco had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You - Potter - why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

This was so unfair that Harry and Lexi opened their mouths to argue, but Ron kicked Harry behind their cauldron. Sadly, that didn't stop Lexi.

"That's not fair," she said crossing her arms.

Snape rounded on her with a furious look in his eyes, "I'm sorry, did you just say 'that's not fair'? Life isn't fair, Ms. Dursley. Five points from Gryffindor for disrespecting a teacher."

She angrily threw her hands into the air before muttering under her breath, "Whatever."

Oh yeah, just as cruel as I remembered. 

* * *

As we climbed the steps out of the dungeon an hour later, Harry was depressed that he had lost two points from Gryffindor already. I had been trying to cheer him up by using Lexi as an example - because she had lost five points in one class - but everyone was flocking her and saying she was awesome and stuff -she didn't seem to enjoy it, so Harry was still depressed. After I had a try, Ron took over.

"Cheer up," said Ron, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come and meet Hagrid with you three?"

"Yeah, me too?" 

At five to three we left the castle and made our way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the forbidden forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked we heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang - back."

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."

He let the five of us in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started licking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

"This is Ron, and this is Ella" Harry told Hagrid, who was pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

"Ella? Reminds me of someone..." I sighed and relaxed into my true form and he gasped. 

"Before you say anything," I cut him off. "I'm not like my father and  hate hi for what he did." 

He nodded but I wasn't entirely sure he trusted me yet. 

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisins that almost broke our teeth, but we all pretended to be enjoying them as we told Hagrid all about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes.

Harry, Lexi, Ron and I were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her - Filch puts her up to it." I was delighted to hear about that.

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson, and what Lexi had said to him. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, but for Lexi to stick to just taking his attitude because he was always like, Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really hate me," Harry said.

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

Hagrid didn't quite meet Harry's eyes when he said that.

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot - great with animals."

I kinda wondered if Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose. While Ron told Hagrid all about Charlie's work with dragons, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy, he and I read it over his shoulder while Lexi drank some tea. It was a cutting from the Daily Prophet :

_GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST_

_Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown._

_Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day._

_"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon._

I remembered Ron telling us on the train that someone had tried to rob Gringotts, but Ron hadn't mentioned the date.

"Wow," Harry whispered.

"What was so important in the vault that someone would try to  _rob_  Gringotts?" I whispered back.

"Hagrid!" said Harry, "that Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might've been happening while we were all there!"

There was no doubt about it, Hagrid definitely didn't meet Harry's or my eyes this time. He grunted and offered him another rock cake. Harry and I read the story again. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier that same day. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, taking out that grubby little package. Had that been what the thieves were looking for?

As Harry, Lexi, Ron, and I walked back to the castle for dinner, our pockets weighed down with rock cakes we'd been too polite to refuse, I thought that none of the lessons I'd had so far had given me as much to think about as tea with Hagrid. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell Harry, Lexi, and I?


End file.
